


Lessons Learned

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BDSM, Battle of Five Armies, Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Bondage, Dark Thranduil, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Master/Slave, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Punishment, Revenge, Seduction, Smut, Spanking, Submission, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liniel has contempt for her Elvenking after losing her brother in The Battle of the Five Armies and Thranduil knows it. The Elvenking aims to teach her a lesson in respect and loyalty. Will Liniel break, or will she remain stubborn and resilient?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "At the Bottom of the Barrel Lies Only Regret"

The cold night air bit the apples of Liniel's cheeks as she watched the sun set. The clouds were a pastel palate of warm creams, swirling about the firmament with a grace no creature could ever possess. It was rather bittersweet, for as beautiful as it was to behold, it would vanish in just a matter of moments before inevitable darkness claimed it. The Greenwood was not unfamiliar with such a fate, and Liniel's smile fell along with the sun. 

The elleth then retreated to her chambers, fitting herself into a sage green gown she commissioned for the Midsummer feast. The fabric was a lightweight and breathable silk with an iridescent finish that caused a prismatic glimmer whenever the light caught it just right. The embroidery around the neckline was exquisitely detailed pattern of golden leaves, and the slip beneath her skirt matched her honey blonde hair. The seamstress had certianly outdone herself. Wearing her hair back, Liniel added leaves between the rivets of her braids, abandoning the circlet on the boudoir. Finally, she looked at herself in the mirror, examining the fit of the gown against her lithe form. She was ready. 

The Elvenking's halls always looked best when decorated and filled with others. The merriment made the solitary walls breathe life again, and Liniel could find comfort in the place that rarely gave such to her. Too often the halls were empty and cold. True, they were grandiose, but without bodies to warm it, it seemed more like a prison than a palace. 

Taking in the scene around her, Liniel accepted the glass of wine that was offered. Already she could hear her brother's words of caution in her head. 

_"At the bottom of the barrel lies only regret."_

Of course, the elleth had every intention of heeding his advice, yet the moment those familiar icy eyes met hers, she took three large sips. Delicate fingers gripped the bowl of the goblet so tightly, they began to feel stiff. Her heart hammered as she watched that venomous smirk spill upon his well defined lips. The elleth tried her best to force a small smile of her own as she craned her neck towards the throne, but it dropped as torrid emotions bubbled in her gut. While most maidens swooned at the sight of the great Elvenking, Liniel's face burned for a different reason entirely. 

Liniel's brother, Telinar, was a member of the King's guard, and during the recent battle at Dale, he was brutally slain by a Gundabad Orc's sword. He followed his King blindly, and for what? For another "priceless" gem to join all of the others? No life was worth such a prize, and the Elvenking's lack of valor was detestable in her eyes. 

And he knew it. 

Thranduil's wine stained tongue prodded the inside of his cheek as he saw her before him. She was a challenge, for no one so openly loathed him save the dwarves, and if there was one thing Thranduil guarded more than jewels, it was his pride. 

"Your grace," Liniel practically spat with a feigned look of reverence. She narrowed her eyes before turning away, draining her glass before going to the barrel for another. 

Trying to distract herself with the jovial music playing, the elleth soon realized the attempt was futile, for her stomach still twisted. She should have stayed behind behind, his decree be damned. So often she had enjoyed the feasts before since Telinar and Legolas were there to keep her company. It was her security there, and the tyrant before her took it all away. 

The heat of his eyes burned her flesh like a brand, yet she paid him no heed. Her chin remained high and her posture poised and graceful. She would remain impervious to his games and simply bide her time until they were all dismissed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The feast had lasted several hours longer, but Liniel did not. Weary and intoxicated, the elleth shuffled to her chambers, using the stony wall to brace her balance. Her appearance was nowhere near as fresh as it had been, and she splashed cool water on her face to soothe her tired eyes. She sighed as her throat grew tight. The wine had brought every emotion to the surface, and Liniel could no longer conceal it. Resentment, grief, hatred and helplessness consumed her and with every fallen tear, she shuddered over the basin. 

After a few moments of humble weepings, Liniel stepped out of her dress and into the warm blankets of her bed. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally and her eyes fluttered shut as blessed sleep came. 

Hours later there was a knock at the door. Pale green eyes shot open as she gasped, her heart humming once more. Grabbing her robe, the elleth pulled the sash tightly around her before opening her chamber door. One of the Elvenking's attendants stood before her with a stoic expression, and Liniel clenched her jaw to stay her rage. 

"His majesty demands your presence," he stated flatly. Blinking her eyes to focus, Liniel pulled her robe tighter. 

"Now?" she asked with a bit of fear. What had she done except deliver a greeting with perhaps too much bite?

"Now," the attendant answered. The color drained from her face. 

"Very well. Allow me a moment to dress and I ---"

"Now," he repeated, his eyes growing stern. Liniel sighed, feeling more vulnerable than she had in a long while. Of course, this had to be his purpose. Why else would he summon her in the early morning hours?

With a firm nod, Liniel reluctantly complied. 

Her feet were cold upon the stone floors and her mind began to worry her with all of the possible punishments her King had in store for her. Would it be a stern talk, or a swift slap? Days in a cell or banishment? The possibilities were endless, yet her nightmarish reverie was broken when the attendant stopped before the Elvenking's chamber doors. He knocked three times before Thranduil greeted him. Liniel walked forward cautiously. 

"Your grace," she stated with humility rather than the insubordination she had displayed prior. His smirk returned. 

"Come in," he purred, waving the attendant away. The door boomed behind the elleth who jumped slightly. She clutched her robe tightly. 

He smelled of cedar and mulled wine; an earthy sweetness that Liniel did not wish to enjoy. Still, she found herself deeply inhaling as he passed her. His masculine gait stood but a few inches above her, yet his presence commanded attention like that of a giant. It seemed an eternity before he spoke again. 

"You have undoubtedly guessed why you are here, have you not?" he said, clasping his hands before him. He had changed into a black tunic with his hair falling softly about his shoulders. No brooch graced his neckline nor were there any rings on his fingers. It was a casual look for him, yet he was no less elegant. Thranduil looked as though he was carved from ice, and Liniel could feel herself shivering sympathetically. 

"I have speculations," she replied, her voice still strong despite her tremors. 

"Which are..." His dark brow arched. 

"For the way I acknowledged you at the feast." Her eyes challenged him and his smirk widened. 

"Your intuition serves you well, elleth," he said before turning to his freshly filled carafe. Liniel's stomach lurched. The thought of drinking anything other than water nearly had her sick all over his floor. 

"Pray, tell me, Liniel," His eyes took in her thinly draped body. "Why do you hate me so?"

He was luring her into a trap, and Liniel was no fool. No matter what the answer, the Elvenking could see to it that she would regret every word. 

"Do you wish me to be candid with you?" she asked. 

"What is the alternative?" A swell of rage filled her chest. 

"An empty apology." Her tone was as dry as the wine in his hand. If Liniel was to be punished for her insolence, she at least wanted to earn it rightly. 

"You have a bold tongue, elleth," he mused, taking a long sip. "And seeing that I have time, I would like to hear both." 

Her eyes narrowed and her jaw stiffened in efforts to keep her poison at bay. 

"Which would you like to hear first, your grace?" she asked. 

Thranduil took a few long strides towards her, staring at her as though she were prey. 

"Your candor," he replied, his velvet voice barely above a whisper. "For you will be giving me an apology regardless. Yet..." He bent forward, his face inches from hers. "... it will not be empty. 

 

 


	2. "He was loyal"

The smell of the wine on his lips was so pungent, Liniel could taste it. 

Goosebumps bloomed across her milky skin and the elleth's breath hitched at his words. There was a darkness in Thranduil's tone she had not known before. It was dangerous, and laden with a hidden motive that had her cheeks flushing. Fighting the flutter in her stomach, Liniel cleared her throat. 

"Very well. If you truly wish to hear what I think of you, then so be it," she replied, much too timid for her own liking. "I find you arrogant first and foremost. It is a repulsive trait and you have done nothing to justify such hubris." 

Thranduil found her words to be more brazen than he had anticipated, yet he dared not stop her. He asked for her honesty and it seemed she was far from finished.

"But your greed is what I find most loathsome," she added, her fear slowly slipping away with confidence replacing it. Liniel's green eyes burned into his, fueled by a fury so long suppressed, that it needed only a spark to ignite. Thranduil's smug grin was such a catalyst. "Because of your obsession with jewels and riches, my brother was slain, along with many other noble members of your guard. He fought and died to serve your petty vice, and now he rots in the ground while you sit upon your throne like a pompous, self righteous fraud!" 

Her eyes began to sting as her hands shook with rage, and Liniel no longer bothered to cling to her robe. Instead, her fists held fast by her sides, clenching so hard her fingers began to throb. 

"You are not my King," she whispered as a hot tear rolled down her cheek. 

Thranduil's face was expressionless despite his urge to send his palm colliding with her pretty little cheek. But, he would not allow such simple words to provoke him, no matter how true they were. After a moment, he smiled again, taking a small sip of his wine as Liniel stood there seething. 

"Are you finished?" he asked lazily.

Liniel could hardly believe it. Had such accusations proved to have no effect? Did he truly not heed the weight of her words? Of course, the elleth did not expect him to see the errors of his ways, but to have no reaction at all? A decent flogging would have been less painful. 

"Well then, I am relieved to see that such frivolity is now behind us," he said dismissively, throwing back his last sip of wine before setting it gently on the end table. 

Liniel had never felt more foolish. It was as if the Elvenking was one of the very spiders that plagued his lands. She was tangled in his web now, waiting for him to strike. 

"Come," he commanded gently, turning to walk towards the sitting area. 

It was a surprisingly cozy space, with two settees and several plush armchairs. An elaborate fireplace decorated the wall, and the mantle was constructed of dozens of antlers entwining and stretching along the length of it. In a different circumstance, Liniel would have allowed herself to admire the set up, but Thranduil's predatory stare sucked away any warmth the room had to offer her. She forced down a harsh swallow, trying to remain proud. She had meant every word and would not recant no matter what the Elvenking had in store for her. 

"Sit," he stated, motioning to one of the armchairs. Liniel did as he said, and Thranduil adored her compliance. Perhaps breaking her wouldn't prove to be such a challenge after all.  

The Elvenking stood a few feet away from the chair, taking inventory of every part of her.From the points of her ears to the curve of her breasts. From the contour of her pout to her dainty little ankles. His insides stirred as he imagined what they would look like in shackles. 

"As powerful as your words were, they did not wound me," he said simply. "However, they did bring to light how important your brother was to you." There was a kindness in his voice that made Liniel feel uneasy. it was all a ruse. It had to be. 

"Yes," she replied hoarsely. "He was my only family left." 

Ages prior, Thranduil's calloused heart would have ached on her behalf. Now, it was a craggy, impenetrable fortress of stone. 

"I know," he whispered before he began to pace around the chair. "You and I share the same regard for Telinar. I, too, saw him as a valuable asset." 

Liniel's head turned to look behind her, trying to catch his eyes. 

"No we do _not_ ," she protested. "He was no  _asset_ to me! He was my brother! I loved him!" 

She rose from the chair, only to be forced down by the Elvenking's hands. She winced, as the grip upon her was more than just a stern warning. It would surely leave a bruise. 

"You're hurting me," she whispered, her body trembling. 

"Shhhh..." he purred from behind her, his nose brushing the tip of her right ear. Liniel gasped.

The contact sent a searing heat directly to the crux of Liniel's thighs and she instinctively clamped them shut. Thranduil chuckled darkly, pleasantly surprised that the defiant elleth was so responsive. It prompted him to repeat his actions, yet this time his lips caressed her instead. Liniel's back arched as her nails dug into the the upholstery so harshly, she was sure it would shred. Heat was pooling between her legs as her breathing began to shallow, and her mind grew hazy with an addicting sensation she could only describe as lust.

"Y-your grace..." she croaked as her shoulders fought against his hands. 

"I see so much of your brother in you," he whispered, moving to her other ear. Liniel whimpered as his tongue grazed the tip of it. 

"Stop," she squeaked out. Was this to be her grand punishment? To be used at the mercy of the Elvenking's lust for flesh? She prayed it not to be so. Her chastity was sacred and she felt tears stinging behind her eyes. With every touch, she felt her body betraying her. She should not be wanting this. 

"The same fire... the same fight..." Blunt teeth nipped her lobe and Liniel groaned as her toes curled. "But there is one very obvious difference." 

Swiftly, Thranduil's hand caught a large tuft of her blonde hair and yanked her head to the side. Liniel cried out at the pain to her scalp, and she feared him now more than every before. Yet sickeningly, the terror yielded violent excitement and the elleth began to feel a slick moisture develop between the folds of her sex.

"He was loyal," Thranduil snarled before releasing her.

The Elvenking straightened his stance, moving in front of the chair to face her once more. He wore a smug look of satisfaction, and his own excitement was evident  by the tenting of his breeches. Liniel's mouth went dry. He looked to be endowed and she felt herself hunger for it.

"You will learn your place in time, Liniel," he said, noticing how her nipples had pebbled beneath the silk of her robe. "Now, what else were you to say to me?"

Humiliation clouded the elleth's face. 

"I'm..." she began, her words as stubborn as she was. "...I'm sorry." 

Thranduil laughed. 

"Good girl, but I hardly believe you," he stated as if nothing had transpired between them. Suddenly, he changed the subject. "You are blushing like a bride on her wedding night. You liked what I did to you." 

Liniel nodded and she shifted in her seat, her wetness seeping further. 

"Which part?" 

Her eyes went wide and she turned a feverish red. 

"A-all of it," she whispered. 

"I asked which part, Liniel. Do not be coy. Just a moment ago I had you mewling at my advances and now you are silent? I think not." 

She paused to collect her thoughts, but Thranduil was growing impatient. 

"Speak!"

She jumped. 

"I wasn't being coy!" she snapped back. "I- I did enjoy all of it! My... my ears... they..." 

His dark brow arched, relishing in her shame. 

"Go on..." he coaxed. 

"They are sensitive." She thought it was best not to mention the arousal she felt when he roughly handled her, as such knowledge would only give him more power. Yet something inside of Liniel told her that he likely already knew. 

"Yes, they are," he commented. "And tell me, how do you feel now?" 

The elleth exhaled cooly. 

"Nervous... excited...ashamed." Her voice began to break as her eyes misted over. 

"Are you wet?" he asked. 

Her eyes shot up at him and she forgot to breathe. Thranduil simply tilted his head, awaiting her response with small amusement tugging at his lips. 

"Well?" he probed. 

Pinching her legs together, the elleth nodded guiltily as her sex throbbed with a dull heated ache. 

"I see," he replied with a smile. "Does it frighten you to know how much power I have over your body?"

A flare of anger sparked within Liniel once more.

"You... but I... that is not fair, your grace... I cannot help how my body responds to you," she explained as her eyes narrowed. 

"Yes. You cannot help it," he sighed, walking towards her. Liniel immediately cowered, pushing herself as far back in the chair as she could. His long fingers wrapped around each armrest and he bent over her, invading her space. "Powerless. Helpless. At my mercy. And if this does not frighten you, it very soon will. I have the power to inflict upon you the most erotic pleasures your body will ever come to know." His slender finger traced along her jaw. "I also have the power to tease you and deny you until you are nothing but a writhing and whimpering mess upon my floor, with only your shredded garments to dry your tears of frustration." Liniel felt the color drain from her face. "Then and only then, when you lie broken and on the edge of release, will you know to whom you truly serve. Obedience must be earned for forgiveness to be earned." 

Panting softly, Liniel straightened in the chair, accepting his proximity but not his words. 

"I do not want your forgiveness," she whispered, caring not for the consequences. 

Thranduil narrowed his eyes in annoyance, standing as his expression melted into something most wicked. 

"You will," he replied. "Now go to your chambers and get an ample amount of rest. I want you fresh for our next meeting."

Liniel stared at him with confusion. 

"Our next meeting?" 

He could have predicted her response. 

"Yes. You are to be ready for me one hour after supper. Be sure you are fed, bathed and groomed, understood?" 

Liniel began to panic. 

"What... why? What are you...?"

"An attendant will come to fetch you," Thranduil interrupted, ignoring her completely. 

Pressing any further was useless, and Liniel gave up her resistance. 

"Yes, your grace," she murmured. Giving s small curtsy, Liniel suddenly became very aware of how aroused she still was. She was practically dripping. 

"Good. And Liniel, you are not to touch yourself." 

Shock claimed her and her stomach flipped. The elleth hadn't even thought to do such a thing,but suddenly it was all she wished for; only a few minutes and sweet release would be hers. He had planted a seed but refused to allow it to grow. Her body shuddered as she fought back a whine. 

"Yes, your grace. I won't," she promised. Thranduil's brow arched. "I won't." 

"Good. I will know if you lie to me," he warned. "Now off with you. I am exhausted." 

With a quick nod, Liniel turned for the door, leaving his chambers more frustrated than she had ever been in her life. Sleep would not be kind to her if it came at all. Yet, the elleth couldn't ignore that while the Elvenking rightly terrified her, there was a forbidden excitement as to what was to occur between them the following night. 


	3. "Nothing"

Sleep was not kind to Liniel that night. Her dreams were heated, filled with sensations of a certain pair of lips and hands roaming her skin. She could hear him in her head; that deep, soothing voice whispering such erotic words, the elleth whimpered at the memory alone. 

_"Obedience must be learned for forgiveness to be earned."_

Splashing cool water on her face, Liniel prayed for peace but it was all in vain. The tension within her was a simmering ball of frustration aching for release. She loathed him more now than ever before. 

Liniel's anxiety made eating a challenge, but she dared not disobey him. Her fork picked at the fresh venison on her plate, forcing bite after bite. The Elvenking commanded her to do so and as much as she wished to defy him, it was in her best interest to comply. After a few more reluctant helpings, Liniel retreated back to her chambers to fulfill Thranduil's next request. 

The water was pleasantly warm, but every touch to her skin was agony. The cloth she washed with was so delicately soft, Liniel found herself groaning as it moved along her thighs. Involuntarily, her mind imagined her hands to be his own, smoothing and teasing her as her sex ached for contact. Damn him and his rules. He could not govern what she did or did not do to her body. Still, Liniel could not help but hear the warning in his voice. 

 _"I will know if you lie."_  

The elleth did not doubt him. 

And so she carried on, gritting her teeth as she continued to do his bidding. The only place left to cleanse was between her thighs and she chewed her bottom lip as the cloth brushed along her folds. The temptation to give a firmer pressure was almost unbearable, and her hands began to shake with resistance. It was nearly impossible to keep one command without yearning to break another, and Liniel could see that smirk mocking her in her mind's eye. 

Preparing to dress, the elleth noticed she was incredibly wet, and she blushed in mild shame. Liniel had always thought herself the resilient sort, but now she was not so certain. Thranduil had already infected her psyche, and now her body seemed to act on its own accord. She stepped into a yellow dress with an orange accent, looking like a picturesque leaf that had freshly fallen upon the autumn ground. Her hair was pulled back into a lazy braid and tendrils of curling blonde fell about her face.

With a sigh, she touched her cheeks. They were on fire. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door, and Liniel's heart sank to her stomach. Wringing her hands, she opened the door and the attendant stood there as stoic as ever. 

"I presume, his Majesty is ready for me?" she spoke indignantly. The attendant held back his shock. 

"Yes," he replied, turning so she would follow. 

Liniel walked with her head held high, keeping her composure while it lasted as they approached the Elvenking's chamber doors. 

The attendant delivered the same three knocks as he had done so previously. Secretly, Liniel hoped the Thranduil had fallen victim to a bit too much to drink, and was sprawled on his bed, snoring away. Much to her dismay, however, he answered the knock with a hungry and pointed stare into her green eyes. She gulped.

"Come in," he purred as usual. The elleth felt naked already. "You look tired." 

"I feel fine," she lied. 

"You did not sleep," he stated flatly. "I can see it in your eyes. What is troubling you?" The smile behind his glance gave him away. He already knew the answer. 

"You know what is troubling me, your grace, as it is your own doing. I do not wish to play games. State you purpose, or I shall leave." Liniel's voice was forceful yet still small, and the Elvenking saw right through her bravado. 

"I mean to play with you," he obliged. Liniel began to feel warm again. 

"Play with me?" she repeated. "I do not understand." Thranduil clucked his tongue with disappointment. 

"Yes, you do," he replied simply. "Now, tell me. Did you do as I instructed?" 

Liniel didn't have time to protest before another challenge was directed her way. 

"Of course. I ate, bathed and groomed." Her throat grew thick with embarrassment . Never had she thought she would speak of such things to anyone, much less her "superior."

"Good girl," he replied walking towards her, towering inches above. "And what of my last command? Do not lie, Liniel. You have already done so twice since you arrived." 

Her eyes lowered. It was impossible to conceal anything from him, and she began to think he had spies in his very walls. 

"I heeded it," she whispered. His fingers lifted her chin up and she winced. 

"Heeded what?" he coaxed. 

"Your command," she replied purposefully vague. Thranduil smirked. 

"Which was..." His tone was stern despite the amusement on his face. Liniel looked down again but Thranduil quickly grabbed her by the jaw. She gasped, her hand flying to his wrist with a feeble tug. "Answer me, elleth!"

"I... I didn't do it!" she squeaked, fighting his fingers with every movement of her mouth. "I didn't touch myself."

Her stomach curled with heat as it did the previous time he was rough with her. His power was ruthless and his strength was so erotically terrifying, Liniel had to consciously hold her moans inside. The Elvenking studied her face, looking for any evidence of falsehood. Much to his disappointment, he found none and he begrudgingly released her. Liniel exhaled with a trembling sigh, clutching her chest as her heart rattled beneath her palm. 

"Good girl," he sneered. "How frustrated you must be." Liniel violently blushed, feeling that throb return between her thighs. 

Thranduil tilted his head, looking upon the elleth covetously. Slowly, his fingers moved to glide along the neckline of her dress and Liniel tensed. 

"This is quite a lovely frock, I must say," he whispered, moving so there was but a foot between them. "But I would rather see it on the floor."

Liniel's eyes rose to meet his, and uncertainty washed her face accompanied by crippling arousal. 

"D-do you wish for me to disrobe, your grace?" she muttered with slight disgust. His hand halted, puzzled by her compliance. 

"Yes," he replied stepping back. "Slowly."

Liniel's eyes shut as she began to breathe calmly through her humiliation. Reaching behind her, she tugged at the laces that stitched up her back. Once loosened, the entire garment seemed to exhale along with her, and one of her long bell sleeves fell off of her shoulder. 

"Look at me," Thranduil commanded. "I want to see your shame." A tiny whimper escaped the elleth and she gazed into his eyes, feeling more frozen than ever before. The eye contact forced her to be present, with any hope of disassociation lost. She could hardly move. 

"Carry on, Liniel," he ordered, hungry to see her flesh. As her eyes misted, the elleth could only nod. Pulling her arm out of one of the sleeves, her hands shook as she guided the fabric off of her other shoulder. With her torso completely bare, Liniel crossed her arms over her chest in a petty attempt at modesty. This displeased Thranduil greatly.

"Liniel..." he spoke with warning. He needed not to explain himself, for the elleth knew the reason for his frustration. Slowly, she lowered her arms, wincing as she exposed her breasts to his savage stare. 

"Your  _eyes!_ " he boomed. Liniel jumped, her glance returning to his as she struggled to breathe. 

The top half of her dress hung at her waist, and her fingers balled the fabric as she tried to remain proud. Her shoulders squared, arching her back regally to present her breasts as an extension of herself rather than something the Elvenking was bound to possess. Thranduil hummed in approval. 

"Exquisite," he praised, and Liniel couldn't help but smile at the sick flattery. He approached her once more with purpose and his gaze violated every inch of her bare flesh. 

The tip of his fingers began at her collar bone, gliding along to create a burning trail down her sternum. Liniel's throat tightened and her body went rigid. From there, Thranduil moved to graze along the underside of her breasts, making the elleth's knees practically buckle. Immediately, goosebumps bloomed across her flesh, causing her rosy nipples to tighten. Thranduil licked his  lips. 

"Tell me what you are feeling, Liniel," he commanded as his touch continued its path along the contour of her mounds. 

"Dizzy," she managed to say. "I... I want..." 

That particular wetness found its home among her folds and she felt a violent desire for his touch to be at its source. 

"Yes? What do you wish?" he teased as he began to circle the edge of her areolae, getting closer to touching her nipples with every rotation. But he never made contact. He wanted her to beg for it. 

"Nothing," she whispered painfully though her body contradicted her words. 

"Nothing?" he repeated, hovering his fingers above the tip of her nipples. Liniel's back involuntarily arched up but Thranduil quickly countered, still avoiding the touch. She whimpered at the denial. "It certainly does not seem so." 

He moved to stand behind her, his cold hands taking her wrists. Pulling her arms up to clasp behind his neck, the front of his pelvis pressed firmly against her behind. 

"Be still," he whispered as his lips touched her sensitive ear once more. Liniel jolted defiantly, panting like an animal in heat. In such a position, she was completely open and defenseless. At least with him at her back, she did not need to look into his eyes as he fondled her. 

"I will ask you again..." he began, as his hands reached around her to stroke along the top of her hipbones that where clearly exposed. "What do you desire?" It seemed a simple request, but laden with ulterior motives. Thranduil meant for her to break and beg for more of his sinful touch that set her skin aflame. He ghosted up her belly and her abdomen clenched, her breasts heaving with panting breaths. He was undoing her with the smallest advances, and the elleth could see her defeat grow nearer and nearer. 

"N-nothing..." she rasped as he traveled up her ribs. Her grip tightened behind his neck, catching a few of his hairs in the process. He grunted at the pain. Liniel expected punishment for it, but the Elvenking was far too pleased at his power over her to react. 

"More lies," he murmured, kissing the tip of her ear as he reached the ridge of her areolae once more. Liniel squirmed a bit, finally allowing a stifled yet audible groan escape her. The head inside her sex was searing and she squeezed her thighs as it begged for pressure. Thranduil noted every reaction, allowing her to try and sate her lustful hunger. It would not be enough. 

"Your body betrays you," he whispered. Liniel panted as a soft whimper came. "If you wish me to give you pleasure, you only need to ask." 

It was too easy to be possible. Control was his only motive, with her pleasure only his to grant. He made that clear when he ordered her to abstain from self gratification. Still, Liniel was suspended in a haze of frustration by his own doing, but she bit her tongue. Thranduil pursued. 

Softly, he dusted over her nipples and the elleth cried out. A sharp stab of arousal caused her to nearly double over and she felt herself shatter. 

"Please..." she whimpered, hating herself for being so weak. 

The hardness that pressed into Liniel's lower back spoke of Thranduil's sweet victory and she felt as though she would go mad. 

"Please, what..." he teased. Liniel wiggled, trying to gain a firmer touch to her nipple. 

"More... harder..." she whispered meekly, her pride slipping away. 

"But I thought you wished for nothing?" His index finger and thumb slowly squeezed those puckered buds as his tongue licked her ear. Yet still the pressure was far to light to be satisfying, and the elleth growled. 

"I... I'm sorry... I... lied... again..." she confessed. "Please..."

Much to her shock, Thranduil appeased, pinching and rolling her nipples as she melted against him. The pleasure was astounding, yet it was only building a greater tension within her loins that was becoming impossible to ignore. 

"What do you say, Liniel?" he prompted, nipping her ear. She arched back, rubbing against his erection and he hissed with pleasure all his own. 

"Thank you... your grace," she groaned, wishing his fingers were inside of her, slipping along the warm wetness that was now trickling down her thighs. 

"Mmmm.... good girl," he praised, taking her breasts and kneading them between sharp plucks. Her hips rocked against him, stimulating his hardness with unspoken gratitude. However, even in her erotic bliss Liniel couldn't help but feel as though she was being lured into a trap. He was appeasing her far too easily. "Are you wet?"

His hands left her breasts and Liniel sighed in protest. 

"Of course I am," she replied as his fingertips wedged between the fabric of the dress that still rested at her hips. Instinctively, Liniel's hands went down to aid him, but he caught her wrists and twisted them. 

"I told you not to move," he snarled. 

"I'm... ah... sorry!" she stammered through the pain. he only laughed as he moved her hands back. 

"You know, for someone who does not wish for my forgiveness, you certainly apologize a decent amount." Liniel scowled while lacing her fingers behind his neck. She thought of giving his hair a firm and defiant tug for good measure. She refrained, of course. 

"Now..." he began as he pushed her skirt to pool at her feet. "... let us see just how wet you truly are." 

Liniel trembled as she was finally nude before him, so aware of how defenseless she truly was. Thranduil's fingers pressed her hips back and the metal of his belt, dug into her skin. She was trapped. Then, his large palm held her pelvis in placed as the other dusted over the blonde curls of her mound. Liniel's breath hitched. 

"Say it," Thranduil tested. The elleth was too desperate to protest. 

"Please," she whined obediently. His fingers stroked over the outer lips of her quim that were dripping with arousal. "Thank you... mmm..." Her hips fought to rut forward but Thranduil's hand held them still. Back and forth, his fingers danced and Liniel could feel her clit begin to pulse. She tensed her trembling thighs but it only knotted her arousal tighter. 

"Please!" she moaned without being prompted, but Thranduil did not heed her. "Please... your grace..." Again her wishes fell on deaf ears and panic flared within her. 

"Shhhhh..." Thranduil purred, nipping her neck. "You are not to speak unless I permit it." The elleth could have cried. He had finally broken her to the point of begging only to silence her. 

Minutes passed and all the Elvenking had done was stroke and glide over her sodden lips that hid a little nub so ripe, that it physically ached. And all Liniel could do was whimper for more. But suddenly, Thranduil's hand left her hip, and moved to one of her breasts. His other fingers dipped passed the threshold of her folds and pressed against her needy clit. 

"Ah!" Liniel shouted, tangling her fingers in his hair so tightly she could tear it. He caught her nipple in reaction, rolling and plucking it as he had done so before. 

"Ride my hand," he whispered. Liniel didn't hesitate. Her hips rocked widly against him, her clit rubbing expertly by the pads of his fingertips. She thought to express her gratitude, but halted her words to keep his command. She did not wish to risk him ceasing. 

"Tell me when you are close to your climax..." he ordered, tracing the outline of her ear with the point of his tongue. 

His hands and mouth worked in tandem to bring her pleasure, and Liniel was lost in it. The stimulation to her clit had her nerves worked up into a frenzy, and the teasing to her nipple and ear only had her climax rushing forth faster and faster. The hours of arousal that had remained pent up from their last encounter were finally moving from a slow simmer to a boil, and Liniel chased the sensation with wild, bucking movements. 

"I'm... I'm close, your grace..." she croaked. 

"Do you wish for release?" he asked, flicking her nipple rapidly as she reached the edge. 

"Yes!" she shouted, bearing down on his hand, preparing to plunge. 

But it never came. 

Suddenly, Thrnaduil's hand moved away from between her legs and Liniel screamed out a frustrated sob. The elleth thrashed against him and his hand returned to her hip as the other moved to her throat. He squeezed firmly and she choked, her quim still twitching.

"You poor thing," he teased, feeling the elleth's tears fall on his wrist. She could have killed him. Swiftly, he moved to face her, astounded at how flushed she was.  It was a wonder as to how her tears weren't steaming as they leaked from her eyes. "You were so close, weren't you?" 

Liniel nodded as a small sob escaped her. 

"I... was... I... s-still...am..." she sniffed. Thranduil's knuckle brushed the side of her face and she winced. 

"Still are?" he mused. 

His hand carded through her hair and he gripped hard, yanking her to her knees. Liniel shrieked. 

"If you wish to climax you must earn it," he spat viciously. He stood proudly, looking at the elleth like the little plaything she was."So... Liniel." He began to unbuckle his belt. "Earn it." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience!


	4. "A Dirty Elleth Must Clean Up Her Mess"

The jingle of his belt buckle had Liniel licking her lips immediately. Of course, she was aching to orgasm, but the thought of having his regal cock in her mouth practically had her salivating. Liniel pretended there was a more mutual intimacy between them, and that he was not just her King but perhaps her lover as well. It was the only way she could stomach being subservient to the being that was responsible for her brother's death, as well as her lack of sexual satisfaction. 

Thranduil let the belt hang open, his hands resting at his waist as a silent command. Liniel didn't take the bait, and simply stared up at him with faux confusion in her large green eyes. 

"Go on," Thranduil coaxed. His erection was so prominent, the laces of his breeches looked as though they were about to tear through the fabric. 

Calmly exhaling, Liniel took the end of the belt and pulled it out of its loops. She dared not look at him, lest a feeling of nausea replace that of curiosity by the vile grin on his face. Next came the laces, and the elleth tried her best not stimulate the bulge that pulsed beneath, yet it was impossible. Every tug to the laces had the Elvenking groaning, and when finally loose enough, Liniel freed his throbbing flesh. 

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him unintentionally. 

"This is the first cock you have ever seen, isn't it?" he teased, moving her hands to pull his breeches down for him. She obeyed, sliding them down until the stopped at the tops of his boots. 

"Yes, your grace," she whispered, watching it pulse majestically. She was becoming unbearably wet again, and her hand moved to stroke adoringly along his shaft. Thranduil's head fell back at the contact, his Adam's Apple bobbing with each strained breath. 

"Grip it," he instructed with a shiver. Her touch was far too light. 

Wrapping her fingers around him, she felt the warm throb against her palm and smiled in fascination. 

"Like that?" she asked, looking for approval. She received it, and Thranduil's fingers carded through her locks before gripping possessively. 

"Yes. Now back a forth with a small twist when you approach the tip, and tighten your grip on the way back down," he coached with a ragged sigh. How long had it been since an elleth served him thus, Liniel wondered. It was certainly not her experience that had his jaw clenching back groans of pleasure.

“How does this feel, your grace?” she asked, increasing the pressure on her hand’s descent. His fingers tightened around her hair as his hips flexed forward. The Elvenking was at full attention now, ready to plunge and penetrate deep inside of her but, of course, he resisted. There was no need for haste. He wanted her mouth first.

“Perfection… now use your mouth,” he growled, yanking her face close to his groin so her lips collided with the tip of his cock. She gasped, but opened her mouth to welcome him inside. Liniel heard the Elvenking swear in Sindarin and her stomach rolled with desire to see him in such erotic abandon. He was so typically composed, and the elleth couldn’t help but feel rather flattered that her own advances were making him break so beautifully. It was a price worth paying if he would indeed reward her with her climax.

Her mouth moved as her hand did, pumping his length while pursing her lips as she moved towards the base. Her tongue busied itself as well, slithering along the underside of his glans and smoothing over the taut muscles and beating veins constricting with the blood of his racing heart. Thranduil’s hips canted forward as he held her head steady, using her until he was spent and Liniel whimpered as his pace quickened. Her hands clenched the muscles of his behind, holding on to him as he ravaged her mouth. His grunting became erratic and his icy eyes finally met hers.

“Good girl,” he praised before his eyes rolled back in crippling pleasure.

With a guttural moan, Thranduil climaxed, his body tensing with a maddening shudder. Liniel was rather surprised at the amount of his seed and swallowed hungrily as to not spill upon herself nor the floor. He tasted sweet and musky, and upon her last gulp she released him with a small kiss to his glistening head.

“Did I do well, your grace?” she asked hoarsely, already knowing the answer. Thranduil chuckled, wiping her lips with his thumb. She kissed it absently before drawing it into her mouth with a seductive suckle. His brow arched.

“Well enough,” he mused, refastening his breeches.

Liniel waited patiently for him to return his attention to her, yet he poured himself a glass of wine instead. She remained on her knees, her posture erect and proud, her back arching invitingly as she presented herself to him. He had to make true on his word. He had to!

“Your grace,” she said meekly, her voice shaking. “I am ready for you.”

Thranduil looked over his shoulder, smiling wickedly as he took a sip of wine.

“I’m sure you are,” he sneered making no attempt to approach her.

When nothing else followed his reply, Liniel’s posture shrank and she quickly covered her breasts with her arms, scrambling to try and restore the modesty lost.

“What do you think you are doing?” Thranduil snapped. Liniel paused with a wince, her shame nearly unbearable.

“I am taking my leave, your grace. I understand that we are finished for tonight,” she replied, trying to sound as composed as possible. Thranduil set his glass down and walked towards her, only to sit in the chair that he had mercilessly teased her in only one night past.

“Then you have misunderstood,” he whispered darkly. A dark blush crept onto Liniel’s cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling.

“Oh. Forgive me,” she replied, dropping her arms again, her green eyes conveying the willingness to be ravaged by his majesty’s salacious appetite. She was greeted with only a mocking chuckle, and her brows knitted curiously. What was he up to now? Why so many games?

“Oh Liniel, you daft creature,” he sighed. “You have earned your climax, yes, but not by my hand. You may carry on and pleasure yourself before me, and when you are through, you may take your leave.”

Tears stung the elleth’s eyes, for it was then she realized that it was not simply an orgasm she craved… it was his touch. The desire sickened her. Thranduil was a vile elf, selfish and cruel, and Liniel wanted nothing more than his fingers upon her feverish skin.

“Th-thank you, your grace,” she whispered, trying not to sound disappointed. It was exactly what he wanted.

Timidly, she sat with her legs resting against the floor. They were barely parted and Thranduil would not have such modesty.

“Spread them, Liniel. I want a good show,” he purred.

She obeyed, bending her knees and opening her legs wide for the Elvenking to gawk. Her lips were a plush pink, still glistening from old arousal an new. Thranduil licked his lips and Liniel could feel her clit tense as she imagined that tongue lashing it.

“Go on,” he coaxed.

Hesitantly, Liniel pressed her fingers against her entrance, shocked at how wet she had become. Her moisture leaked out of her like nectar, and she plunged her index finger deep inside her walls. She moaned wantonly, her head dropping back limply.

“Taste yourself,” he commanded.

Liniel gave herself a few soft pumps before bringing her fingers to her lips. She suckled them in the same manner as she had his cock, hoping to give him a taste of what tortures she was forced to endure. Once clean, she returned to her quim, forcing two fingers home and imagining it being that solid member that once occupied her mouth.

“How do you taste, Liniel?” he purred as his skin flushed at the vision before him. Her lips swallowed her digits up to her knuckle looking tight and ripe. The Elvenking shifted in his seat as he began to grow hard once more.

“Sweet,” she sighed, moving to circle her clit with newly lubricated fingertips. With a small whimper, Liniel jerked at the contact. That sensitive little nub was already so swollen, she knew her climax would arrive with only a few more strokes.

“Slowly,” Thranduil scolded as Liniel’s pace began to quicken. The chase to an explosive ending started to become an agonizing burn and the elleth’s hips bucked as a whimper of frustration escaped her.

“Please…” she panted, teetering on the edge as her hand trembled to fight the urge to rub herself into a frenzy. “Please… I beg of you… let me climax… I’m so close, your grace…”

Thranduil simply stared as a sick smile curled upon his lips.

“Please! I… I’m…aahhh!!” Liniel cried out, rubbing out her orgasm furiously as she thrashed at his feet. Her walls contracted rhythmically, pulsing crippling pleasure into her very bones, and after several blissful seconds, the elleth laid still panting and mewling softly in contentment.

“Feeling better?” Thranduil teased. “You certainly seem to have enjoyed yourself. You have spilled your juices all over my floor. Clean it up and you are free to go.”

 With wide eyes, Liniel saw her essence collected on the hard wood, and she reached for a corner of her skirt to wipe it up. Thranduil stopped her immediately.

“Your mouth,” he corrected. “Lick it.”

Humiliated, Liniel winced, shaking her head in protest.

“You said so yourself that your cunt tastes sweet… now lick it up or I shall have you on edge for an entire week. A dirty elleth must clean up her mess.” As degrading as his words were, Liniel couldn’t help but feel excited by it. How could something so perverse arouse her so?

Her tongue peeked out from between her lips and while closing her eyes, she swept up her juices in small, timid laps. Her cheeks burned and Liniel even let a pathetic whimper of shame escape her. It was an odd sensation to feel so disgusted and yet still wanting his approval for a job well done. Her eyes looked to him hopeful.

“Good girl,” he praised, and Liniel fought back a grin. “Now… you shall come to me tomorrow night at the same time. Same rules apply, yet I will permit you to touch yourself, however you are not allowed to climax. I want to bring yourself to the brink and then cease. You won’t be getting away with a little stunt like that ever again.”

Liniel nodded. She should have known he would not have overlooked her lack of will power to obey him. It seemed her resilience was far less impressive than she had anticipated, for Thranduil found her weakness and would exploit it until her lesson was learned.

 

 


End file.
